Chapter Three: Why Don’t You Try It Too?
There was really no need for an introduction. Who in the company didn’t know Wang Mo? After last night’s explosive scandal, Wang Mo’s name was now thunderously famous throughout the entire company.
Liu Zhengwen led Wang Mo into the office area and clapped his hands. Only after everyone’s eyes turned their way did he announce, “I have news for you all. Starting today, Wang Mo will officially join the Composition Department and become one of us. Let’s welcome him with applause.”
A smattering of applause broke out, mingled with gasps of shock.
“What? Wang Mo is joining the Composition Department?”
“How far he’s fallen!”
“A top star reduced to a tool—anyone would go mad from such a reversal.”
“No way, right? There’s really a top idol becoming a songwriter?”
“What’s going on?”
“What kind of circus is this?”
Almost everyone’s eyes were filled with disbelief. Of course, there were a few quick-witted individuals who soon grasped the situation: Wang Mo had been shelved by the company. Most likely, the entertainment world would never see another star like him—just a new, old, and ancient member of the Composition Department: Wang Mo.
Amid the commotion, Liu Zhengwen pointed to a vacant spot in the corner of the office area. “Wang Mo, you’ll sit over there from now on. If you need anything, just come to me.”
He didn’t assign Wang Mo to any supervisor, nor did he give him tasks. After all, he knew Wang Mo was just here to pass the time. As long as he didn’t stir up trouble, Liu Zhengwen could enjoy some peace.
Having said this, Liu Zhengwen turned and left.
Wang Mo’s expression remained calm. He ignored the heated discussions around him, walked to his designated desk, and proceeded to openly scroll through Weibo on his phone.
Work? Impossible.
He’d already fallen from grace. What was the point of pretending?
At that moment, Weibo was still ablaze, the trending searches exploding. Of the top ten trending topics, five were about him.
Trending Number One: [Wang Mo’s Scandal]
Trending Number Two: [Official Media Comments on Wang Mo: Morality Unworthy of Fame]
Trending Number Three: [Wang Mo Mocks National Hero]
Trending Number Four: [Mango TV Urgently Removes “Brothers’ Life”]
Trending Number Five: [National Heroes Must Not Be Insulted]
As for his Weibo page, his followers hadn’t decreased—instead, they’d risen from 61.28 million the previous day to 62.01 million now.
Over 700,000 new followers overnight!
He really was burning hot—just not in the way he’d hoped.
A glance at his comments section revealed a dazzling spectacle. For example: praise for his handsomeness, charm, talent, or strength... not a single one!
No need to describe what was actually there. After a few glances, Wang Mo felt so pumped with adrenaline that he could kick a plowing ox clear across ten acres of fields and do the job himself.
He originally wanted to shut down the eye-searing comments section, but upon logging in, he discovered his account had already been banned by the platform, leaving him powerless.
“Damn it all!” Wang Mo cursed and closed Weibo.
He still remembered the staff’s fawning attitude toward his predecessor at last month’s Weibo Night. Who would have thought that they would turn on him so quickly?
Indeed, a fallen star is worse off than a chicken.
Hmph! Don’t get too comfortable.
He’d be back.
...
Time slipped by day after day.
On the internet, after several days of explosive attention, news about Wang Mo quickly vanished, replaced by countless other stories.
The company’s PR efforts, meanwhile, were a resounding failure.
Ever since Yuan Xiong told Wang Mo on the third day to prepare himself psychologically, Wang Mo knew that he—the former top idol—had been utterly abandoned by everyone.
Within the industry, many expressed regret.
“There’s no Wang Mo in entertainment anymore.”
“He was once a top star, and now he’s just an ordinary man.”
“Do you think he has a chance for a comeback?”
“You must be joking! Wang Mo’s scandal made official news; his reputation is utterly destroyed. If he could make a comeback after that, my roommate would serve you his head as a chamber pot.”
At Yunhai Media, Wang Mo himself was surprisingly calm.
Every day, he either slept, read novels, or browsed Bilibili.
Everyone assumed he was utterly dejected and had given up.
But in truth... he really had given up.
Though he’d received a mission from the system—to release a song titled “It Doesn’t Matter”—he hadn’t found the right opportunity in the past few days.
No rush, he thought. He could wait.
...
While Wang Mo was in no hurry, Liu Zhengwen in the office was growing more and more anxious.
What was the Composition Department for, if not to write songs for singers?
It was already mid-July. In just over ten days, August would arrive.
The beginning of each month was when singers fought for spots on the charts. At that time, all the singers from the major entertainment companies—including megastars, divas, the most popular idols, first-, second-, and third-tier artists, plus a flood of newcomers—would release new songs, hoping for a good ranking at the start of the month.
Of course, no matter how outstanding a newcomer might be, it was hard for them to compete with established singers on the charts.
Therefore, each month’s new song competition had two separate charts:
One for established singers: the New Song Chart.
One for newcomers: the Rookie Chart.
This was a bit like the web novel sites Wang Mo remembered from his previous life, which also featured New Book and New Author charts.
Indeed, even in different worlds, the rule-makers of every industry would always give newcomers a chance to shine.
If you wanted to compete, you had to release a song.
A few days ago, Liu Zhengwen had already received a request from the company’s Vocal Department: in August, 13 singers would be releasing songs, so the Composition Department needed to prepare at least 50 songs for them to choose from.
Fifty songs!
With over two hundred people in the Composition Department, creating that many songs wasn’t particularly difficult. The department even had a stockpile of unused tracks.
But producing 50 songs that satisfied the Vocal Department? That was a tall order.
Last month, the Composition Department had provided over sixty songs for Vocal Department singers to choose from, but in the end, not a single one made it into the top ten of either chart. For a top-tier entertainment company like Yunhai Media, these results were nothing short of dismal.
With such poor performance, the singers in the Vocal Department blamed the Composition Department, hurling accusations:
“The songs are bad!”
“The lyrics and composition are weak!”
“The arrangements are tasteless!”
“The music doesn’t suit the audience!”
So, as manager of the Composition Department, Liu Zhengwen was under immense pressure.
If his department failed to produce at least one or two songs that entered the top ten this month, his position would be at risk.
What made him even more frustrated was the news he’d received: due to the Wang Mo incident, the company had suffered severe losses. The higher-ups were holding in their anger, and if the Composition Department failed again, that anger would likely be directed at him.
Upon hearing this, Liu Zhengwen was so furious he nearly smashed his phone. What did Wang Mo’s scandal have to do with him?
Was the Composition Department really such an easy target?
Well... apparently, it was.
He cursed inwardly: When would composers finally be respected?
Liu Zhengwen let out a long sigh, forcing himself to compose his expression and suppress his negativity. Then he picked up the profiles of the 13 singers and opened his office door.
Stepping into the office area, he clapped his hands and smiled. “Everyone, August is almost here—a new month, a new task. The company has confirmed that 13 singers will need new songs next month. I have their profiles right here. So, in the coming days, please try to compose songs suited to their styles. Each of the ten composition teams must produce at least five songs for these singers to compete with.
Of course, these 13 singers are just the Vocal Department’s preliminary picks. They might change later, so don’t stick too closely to the profiles—feel free to think outside the box.”
“Oh.”
“Alright.”
“...”
As tools of the trade, the composers were all too familiar with this routine, responding listlessly.
Liu Zhengwen glanced around, seeing the lack of enthusiasm, and was about to give a motivational speech when his eyebrows suddenly rose.
In the right corner, Wang Mo—who usually dozed off in lethargy—was now looking straight at him, eyes bright with seriousness and curiosity.
What’s it to you? Liu Zhengwen thought, but recalling what Yuan Xiong had said, he knew he couldn’t simply ignore Wang Mo.
After all, Wang Mo was now a member of the Composition Department.
So he put on a kind smile and said to Wang Mo, “How about you try your hand at this composition task too?”